


Do Fish dream of Ocean Sheep

by ditty (Triple_A)



Series: The Fish Are Alright [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mermaids, Character Study, Fanart, I Think? I Don't Know, Kids AU, Mermaid Nines, Mermaid Sixty, Other, Tags May Change, They're mermaids and they're kids, mermaid au, mermaid connor, title may change
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:28:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24382069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Triple_A/pseuds/ditty
Summary: He’s the only one who remembers life before glass walls and white lab coats. Vague, hazy memories of seagrass and shells and an outline of a woman with dark hair. Silver scales with a rainbow catching on the edges. A whisper -“Connor, darling, take care of your brother,”as he drifted off to sleep - before waking up under harsh fluorescent lights, in a tank of saline water.
Relationships: Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900 & RK800 "Connor" Android(s)
Series: The Fish Are Alright [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1767172
Comments: 13
Kudos: 58





	Do Fish dream of Ocean Sheep

**Author's Note:**

> its a working title hhh
> 
> connor is a flying fish, sixty is a betta fish, and nines is a dogfish shark :)
> 
> now with some art!

“Why do we call you ‘Connor?’”

Nines asks the question when he’s very little, still hardly the length of Connor’s wing fin and with the skin of his tail still smooth, the barbs not yet grown in. He asks, so earnestly, pulling his thumb from his mouth with a pop to ask, and Connor has already opened his mouth to answer when he realizes he doesn’t know what to say.

So he replies with another question. “What?”

“Why do we call you ‘Connor?’” Nines repeats, one small fist holding the end of Connor’s wing fin tightly enough to avoid drifting away in the artificial current of the pool, but not enough to crumple the thin film. “We call Sixty ‘Sixty’, and me ‘Nines’. But why don’t you have a number?”

Connor is not a stupid kid. He had been expecting the question for some time.

That doesn’t mean he was any more prepared.

“Well-uh. It’s because,” He stammers, not quite meeting Nines’s gaze. “Because-they forgot to give me a number.”

“They did?”

“Yeah. The scientists, they forgot to give me one. But Chloe let me keep my name.” It’s not entirely untrue. The scientists had decided that Connor didn’t need a numeral designation; it was some experimental thing, for them. Separate two twins, raise them in different circumstances. Leave one with a name. Give the other a number.

He had gotten the better end of the deal. Chloe as a nurturer, and a name. Sixty didn’t get that luxury. Connor never asked what he had gotten instead, and Sixty never talked about it.

“Oh.” Nines returns his thumb to his mouth. “We can ask Chloe to give you a number. So you can be like me and Sixty.”

“Hm. We’ll see.”

* * *

This is Connor.

This is the weight he carries.

Connor. Number fifty-one. Species: flying fish. Roughly two years of age when he was found by Cyberlife, a robotics development company that was beginning its delve into bio-medical and marine research. Roughly four years, when he finally got reunited with Sixty in a way that didn’t divide them by a sheet of glass. Eight years when he got a new little brother, with the same face as him. Different in only eye color. Bright gray to his dark brown.

Between him and Sixty, he’s the only one who remembers life before glass walls and white lab coats. Vague, hazy memories of seagrass and shells and an outline of a woman with dark hair. Silver scales with a rainbow catching on the edges. A whisper - “ _Connor, darling, take care of your brother,”_ as he drifted off to sleep _-_ before waking up under harsh fluorescent lights, in a box of saline water.

Sixty doesn’t remember. Sixty doesn’t even remember his own name, and Connor’s afraid to remind him ( _Shiloh_ , he thinks every time, afraid of forgetting. _Shiloh and Connor._ ) Connor had asked him once, if he remembered life before the lab, and Sixty had frowned.

“ _Before_ the lab?” Sixty asked, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“You know, before the lab. Before all... _this_.” Connor gestures around him. Glass walls. Cement floor. “Don’t you remember? The ocean, and stuff?”

“Connor, there’s only ever _been_ the lab. I think your memories are getting mixed up.” Sixty shakes his head. “I remember Chloe taking us to the cove and letting us swim there. Are you sure that’s not what you were thinking of?”

It scared him. Connor just nodded, mumbled a ‘Yeah, that must be it.’ It was too scary dwelling on it, or pressing the matter. Because what would happen if Sixty told the other researchers? Chloe was nice, and so was Mister Kamski, but he didn’t know about the others.

But it was also hard, just holding these memories by himself. These memories that no one else but him could confirm, and he hardly had anything to confirm it. He holds on to them, though, because all he has is this: his brother, his name, and some memories, quickly receding into dreams and vague shapes.

He tells himself he should be happy. He gets to live with Sixty. He gets to have fun. The lab isn’t all that bad, he has room to swim and jump and he gets food and treats, and Chloe will come by every week with books and toys and puzzles and the occasional movie. Occasionally, she and Mister Kamski will help load Connor and Sixty onto a loud, rumbly truck and drive to a little beach, after the tide had filled a cove with water and they could play and explore as much as they pleased, without danger of being pulled into the wider ocean.

But he’s not happy. There’s always that little thought that it’s not right, that there should be more. _An itch,_ Chloe had described once, like about her own dreams to leave Cyberlife and drive as far as she could, until she either found something worth staying still for or she ran out of gasoline, at which point she’d start walking.

(“ _Not that I’d leave you two, of course-no, it’s not anything I can really do much to get rid of. It’s just an itch I can’t scratch. It’ll go away eventually._ ”)

He dreams about it sometimes. Dreams about telling Sixty everything he knows and remembers - the hazy mom-shapes that were fading with every year, or his name, _their_ names, _My name is Connor, your name is Shiloh, come on, you remember, hurry up and_ remember - and they’d leave, somehow. It’s never clear how it happens. Maybe Chloe takes them to the cove and they leave, or maybe they do it themselves, somehow. And then- and then-

Connor usually wakes up at this point, realizing he doesn’t know what to do after that. Find their parents? He didn’t even know if they were real, or alive. Maybe they had left Connor and Sixty at Cyberlife for a reason. Maybe they didn’t want either brother back.

Nines comes around - first just a gelatinous egg, cold and squishy and the scientists said that he hadn’t hatched yet, they were nearing the date and he hadn’t hatched yet, and he was running out of time before they declared him a dud. And then Nines was a baby, a fat, wiggly baby that screamed as loud out of water as he did under it. And then Nines was a toddler, trapped in plastic floats; and then a little kid, tail too long for his body and always shy. Holding onto Connor’s hand even though he could swim by himself.

The dreams change.

Now they’re all escaping, Connor, Sixty, and Nines. Nines doesn’t have a name in these dreams, but here he is with them anyways.

(And then Nines somehow finds a baby shark. And somehow convinces Chloe and Mister Kamski to let him keep it.)

(Connor’s dreams change again.)

* * *

This is Nines.

Number nine-hundred. Species: Dogfish. The only surviving egg out of all of the ones of his group, and the only one that produced a viable specimen. A ‘perfect’ specimen.

But he’s not any of that. Not all the time, at least.

He was an egg that was almost given up on, and then a baby with a scream that could make waves, and then a toddler put in a little donut of plastic so that his lungs can develop. He’s a kid scared of his own shadow and always clinging to Connor’s side as they swim, and then a kid with a shark that he found at the cove, a fish with the same tail as him and the same shyness.

(He also had big plans ahead of him. Not his own plans, of course. But plans.)

To Chloe, he’s a very special boy. She tells him so, tells him he’s a ‘one-in-a-million chance,’ one of her smartest students, a very good kid. To Mister Kamski, he’s smart, and the man tells him he’s got the jaw strength to rival a croc and sneaks him pieces of candy when Chloe isn’t looking.

(Nines is absolutely not allowed to have sweets, but it’s not like it matters in the long run.)

To Connor: he is a little brother. Connor tells him as much repeatedly, as though he’s afraid Nines might forget. Let’s Nines hold his hand even when the scientists say he should be swimming by himself by now, and sneaks Nines bits of fish when it seems that his voracious appetite can’t be settled by his own meals. When Chloe reads them stories with a mother, Nines thinks: That’s Connor. A person who is always nice and caring. And then Chloe tells them a mother is usually a woman, and Nines decides that it must be Chloe.

Sixty isn’t like that.

To Sixty: he is a little brother, but he thinks Sixty and Connor have different ideas of what that means. Not that Sixty is mean, of course, but he’s...a little less _nice._

When the scientists tell Nines to stop holding Sixty’s hand, Sixty pulls away first.

When the scientists tell Sixty to stop giving Nines pieces of fish, Sixty does.

(But Sixty isn’t mean. Sixty knows all the best games, and makes sure Nines has a part in them. Sixty presses pretty shells into his hand and tells him not to show the others. Sixty jokes that they’re members of the number club, which Connor isn’t a part of, and shows Nines how to throw pebbles at the more annoying scientists and get away with it without anyone noticing.)

(Sixty is like Mister Kamski. He does care. He just...does it differently.)

(He’s not mean. He’s not hateful towards Nines.)

(He’s not.)

Sometimes Nines gets the feeling that even though he and Sixty are in the number club, he’s still different from Sixty and Connor. And it’s not because they’re both older. They know something Nines doesn’t, and he can tell by how they look at their surroundings in the cove. How Sixty argues just a little bit harder about keeping the shells he finds and tries to hide them in their enclosure, even though he knows they’ll be cleaned out come morning. How Connor looks away when Nines asks about his name, and shrugs when Nines asks about his number.

* * *

This is Sixty.

_Once upon a time, in a galaxy, far, far away…_

Number sixty. Species: Betta fish. An oddity, being more suited for freshwater and yet being able to live in the sea. There were a few years where the scientists thought that this meant that he’d have to be kept separate from Connor, and those years were hell for those scientists. Sixty might have only been a little older than two, but he knew something was missing from the little freshwater enclosure they kept him in, and his teeth grew quickly enough for him to use them on things other than pre-mashed fish.

Yeah. Anyways. Betta fish, freshwater, mildly aggressive. He also has a great interest in outer space, thanks to a Star Wars read-along picture book Chloe read to them. This isn’t important, but he thinks that it is.

_There was once a boy on a desert planet, who wanted to see more of the stars,_ the story went. Or maybe that was just how Sixty remembered it. Whatever.

And Sixty does remember life before Cyberlife, thank you very much. He mostly remembers getting abandoned. Because if he wasn’t abandoned, he would remember a fight, and he doesn’t remember any biting jaws or slashing talons or frothing water.

He remembers a kiss, a warm touch, and that was that.

What kind of parent does that?

Not one worth dwelling on in his opinion. When Connor asks if he remembers, Sixty scoffs, and plays dumb. For two reasons: one, it’s not worth reminiscing on someone who ditched them, and two, it’s dangerous to do so anyways, where scientists could hear. He found out the hard way that Cyberlife scientists didn’t like it when asked if they kidnapped any wild mers recently.

(As it turns out, the man in charge of the freshwater enclosures is named Zlatko.)

(He’s very different from Chloe or Mister Kamski.)

He feels bad when Connor’s face falls at his answer, bad enough to almost make him take it back. He doesn’t, of course; Zlatko might’ve been fired and arrested ages ago, but Sixty doesn’t want to risk it. So he sticks by it, and mutters offhandedly he might remember something about kelp, but Connor doesn’t seem to hear. It’s easier to pretend that they’re lab productions, anyways. That the lab is all they’ve ever known, never mind a nonexistent parent who tried to make up for abandoning her babies with a kiss and an apology. Because honestly, who does that?

_Once upon a time, in a galaxy far far away, there was once a man who loved a woman very much, and he tore up half the galaxy for her. The woman was broken-hearted by his actions and she- get this- she dies. And leaves behind a pair of twins without parents. To be raised alone, unknowing of each other’s existence for many years._

_Can you imagine?_

Sixty couldn’t. He couldn’t imagine being separated from Connor; it was an unspoken truth that he might have torn apart the first person who tried to keep them apart, human or otherwise. All they have is each other. No one else is needed, thank you very much.

And then Nines comes along.

And Nines is…

Uh…

Hm.

Is there a way to say it without being mean?

Nines is a _nuisance_. A little blob of jelly that turned into a little blob of a baby that screamed incessantly. Then a little wiggly sardine stuffed into some floaties and left to flop around and drift aimlessly in the pool. Then a kid that stuck to Connor’s side like a suckerfish on a shark. And it’s mean of Sixty to think this, and he knows, and he feels awful for even thinking this, but he really really detests Nines for a while.

Mostly because in the time since Nines shows up, Connor stopped talking to him like they used to talk. Connor was too busy. _With Nines._

Eventually, Nines does grow on him, but not for a while. Not in the time where Sixty would pinch his tail when he wasn’t looking, or sneak fish away from him when he was distracted. He feels awful for it later, always did. Would try and make up for it by holding Nines a little closer as they slept or giving him the cool stones or shells they find at the cove, making up games that have to include Nines.

Does that make it better?

Sixty knows it doesn’t.

_Once upon a time, in a galaxy far far away…_

_How does the story go again?_

_A man loves a woman a lot. Too much. He tears up half the galaxy for her. She dies because of-get this-a broken heart. And leaves behind two twins. Can you imagine?_

_The twins find each other. They do their parts. They win a war. Peace all around. The end._

_There's no third sibling. There's no secret brother that adds to the story. They defeat the corrupt father and his evil master and the story ends just fine._

_Right?_

_. . ._

“Hey, Nines. Wake up.”

“Hmm? Whu?”

“Look up. See those stars?”

“Yeah...yeah? What ‘bout them?”

“Do you think there’s something that lives past those stars?”

“Like in Chloe’s stories?”

“Yeah. Like...Luke Skywalker. Or Darth Vader. Do you think things like that might exist?”

“I dunno. Connor says those stories are just fiction.”

“Never mind what Connor thinks. I’m asking what _you_ think.”

“Um…”

Connor is still asleep. The skylight above the pool is open, and the moon is all warped and wiggly thanks to the water between them. A little blob of light.

“Sixty?”

“Yeah?"

“Do _you_ think there are things living out there?”

“Sure. There has to be, right? Chloe says space is super big and Mister Kamski says there’s a theory where multiple universes can exist at the same time and-anyways. The point is space is big enough for another planet like earth to exist, and that planet probably has people way cooler than us. Maybe multiple planets.”

“Are they fighting?”

“Huh?”

“Are those-” Nines yawns, the yawn bubbling right up and out of his mouth and gills and floating lazily towards the surface, catching starlight as it goes. “Are those people fighting? Like Chloe’s story?”

“Dunno. Maybe. Maybe the planets are friends. Or maybe some of the people fight sometimes.”

“I hope they’re friends,” Nines mumbles. He’s already drifting off - ha, _drifting_ \- squirming a little closer. “It’d be nice if they were friends.”

“...Yeah.”

“...Wait, Nines, you didn’t answer my question.”

“...Never mind. Good night.”

* * *

_My name is Connor, Connor screams in his dreams. My name is Connor. Your name is Shiloh. We lived somewhere before this. Don’t you remember?_

_Remember what? His reflection asks back. My name is Sixty. It always has been. Who is Shiloh?_

_What about me? A smaller reflection interrupts. It looks the same as him, except; the eyes. They’re different. Big as the moon and the same color. Do I get a name?_

_Yes, yes, of course, Connor says. Of course you do. You’re my little brother. Your name is- is-_

* * *

_Once upon a time - oh, who am I kidding. You know how this goes._

_Sixty made up a game, once. It came to him just as he was about to fall asleep. They found driftwood sticks and pool noodles and pretended they were swords made out of lasers._

_Nines pretends to stab him. Sixty hesitates. Connor gives him a pointed look. Sixty pretends to go down with a groan._

_And that’s fine, right? Is that so bad? Is it so bad if later, he goes back and he raps Nines just a little bit harder, with his lightsaber? A little bit, not even enough to bruise._

_Is that so bad?_

* * *

_Connor gets sad sometimes. Nines can tell. He gets sad when he looks at Sixty and he gets sad when he looks at Chloe and on these days, Nines does everything he can to cheer him up. Giving him a piece of saltwater taffy that Mister Kamski had handed him earlier and trying to relay a funny joke that Chloe had told him, fumbling on the punchline entirely but still succeeding in making Connor smile tiredly._

_Sixty teaches him how to throw pebbles at some of the scientists. How to get away with it. How to sneak the pebbles out of the cove by pinching it between a fin and his tail and then flicking them in just the right way to bounce off some hapless scientist’s ankles. Sixty won’t tell him where he learned this. Or why he mostly targets the scientists with dark hair and bushy eyebrows._

_Just tells him to be quiet and get ready to swim away._

**Author's Note:**

> fish boys fish boys FISH BOYS FISH BOYS
> 
> wrote this for mermay :3c
> 
> bonus:   
> 


End file.
